


Pretend Relationship

by quinnfabs



Series: Friendship Writing Challenge [12]
Category: Glee
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-29
Updated: 2015-03-29
Packaged: 2018-03-20 06:03:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3639474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quinnfabs/pseuds/quinnfabs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kurt and Santana are matched with each other. They don't realize it when it happens, but it might not be as bad as they think.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pretend Relationship

The name on Kurt’s hand is a woman’s. It’s all wrong, he thinks. Soulmates are supposed to be your perfect match, and how on earth is a  _woman_ his perfect match when he’s completely, irrevocably gay? He wonders if this is some kind of joke, some massive prank the universe is playing on him, to mess with him. If tomorrowmorning he’ll wake up and get a message saying “Ooh, just kidding” followed by his  _real_  soulmate’s name. He thinks, maybe the name is misleading, it just reads like a woman’s name but really, it’s not. With how much humans are evolving, maybe he shouldn’t be so close minded about it all.

He traces over the letters written in a small cursive scrawl and wonders if this is better or worse than not having a name at all. He knows that the universe doesn’t make mistakes and that he’s never heard of a match going wrong, e _ver._ But he also thinks, maybe that’s intentional, maybe the matches that go wrong are hidden, so everyone just assumes that the system is perfect.

He groans to himself and wills himself to be a little less cynical. Wonders if the woman who has his name is excited, nervous to meet him. Wonders if he’ll have to pretend to love her,  _make love_ to her. He feels sick. It’s already a tall order to even think about having sex with someone who’s compatible, this, this is something he never expected he’d have to do.

There’s a part of him that isn’t all that surprised, with how much he’s been conditioned at school to believe that a soulmate is a man and a woman. He knows that “unconventional” matches have happened, knows that they’re slowly rising in nature. Those matches are tolerated because of the mark, but not accepted, never accepted. 

Maybe he can run away, to live in a colony somewhere, change his name. Hide the name on his wrist and pretend that he never got a mark at all.

It’s a nice thought, but it would never work.

He doesn’t want to think about it anymore so he goes to sleep, hoping that when he wakes up tomorrow, things make a little bit more sense.

Streets over, Santana Lopez is sobbing into her pillow because her mark doesn’t say Brittany S. Pierce like she was so sure it would. She traces over the name, Kurt Hummel, and doesn’t really know what to think. The name is pretty telling, she doesn’t think that she’s ever heard of a female Kurt. She’s afraid, she knows what guys expect from their soulmates, to be these meek, vulnerable women who listen to their every whim. She knows what her place in society is, she had just  _hoped_ that this would be somewhere where should be accepted. She’s heard of two females getting matched with each other, it’s not as common as two males, but it  _has_ happened.

All she can do is cry, because she’s in love with Brittany, she’s in  _love with her._ She wants to say she doesn’t care about this dumb mark; that it doesn’t mean anything to her. But she knows how Britt sees it. She  _loves_ the romanticism behind it all, the idea that her perfect match was out there, waiting for her. Santana had hoped, prayed, that she would be that perfect match for her. But she isn’t, and it hurts more than anything she’s ever felt. She knows in a few hours she’ll just be furious, but right now, right now she needs to get her tears out of the way because she knows that when Brittany sees the mark she won’t be sad, won’t be as devastated as she feels right now. She’ll be happy for Santana, excited to meet Kurt.

Santana thinks about how she would feel if Brittany was the one who got her mark, if she would be supportive. She imagines seeing someone else’s name written on Brittany’s soft skin and she can’t stop the bile that rises up in her throat.

She hates the society she’s forced to live in, she despises that the word soulmate is given so much stock. That some name on her wrist is more important than the way she feels deep in her bones, in her heart. How can something that is supposed to be perfect for her cause so much pain, before she’s even met them? As she’s vomiting into her toilet, she wonders if this is what she deserves. If society, the mark on her wrist, is trying to tell her. That she isn’t worthy of anything more than deep sated loneliness and devastation.

Maybe one day, she will be able to meet this Kurt and feel excitement, but right now, all she wants is to hold Brittany and pretend that this mark never existed. But she can’t do that, she can’t do what she wants because what she wants is  _wrong._

So when she’s done throwing up, she gets up and lays on her bed. She thinks she’s cried enough tears for the rest of her life, so she sleeps. Sleeps without any dreams, because it feels like she’ll never have anything good to dream about ever again.  

***

They don’t meet each other until after high school is over, even though they lived in such close neighborhoods. They meet in New York of all places, where Kurt is in college and Santana is trying to figure out her life.

She’s serving him at this diner, a pit stop he makes after a long day of classes, when he realizes.

“Hi, I’m Santana Lopez and I’ll be your server this evening. What can I get for you?” She says with a smile that never meets her eyes.

Kurt doesn’t respond, just stares at her with his jaw dropped open. He stays like that for a beat before she rolls her eyes and mutters, “I get it, I’m hot. But I can’t get you any food if you don’t tell me what you want to eat.”

He just brings his arm up to the table, slowly takes off his cuff so that she can see her own name written there.

She stares at her name on his wrist and whispers, in the smallest voice he’s ever heart, “Kurt?”

“Yeah, it’s me.” And he kind of wants to cry because of how devastated she looks. It’s not like he feels much better, but seeing that reflected on her face does hurt, a little. He’s made peace with the fact that his match would be a woman, the fact that this lady doesn’t even  _want him,_ when she hasn’t even gotten to know him? He’ll admit it, it hurts.

But what he doesn’t realize is the turmoil going on within her. She had hoped this day would never come, that she’d never even have to see her soulmates face, so she’d never have to pretend to be something she wasn’t. She was getting settled, she had a job, and the cashier was a cute girl with a nice voice. She could have made it, she could have been okay.

But that’s not how her life works, apparently.

She realizes how rude she’s being, how obvious she’s being with the frown on her face and she knows she has to say something.

So she says, “I have to go.”

She doesn’t wait for him to respond, just storms off into the kitchen, and sits in the back.

She hears footsteps and she figures it’s Dani, the cashier, coming in to check on her. When she looks up to say it’s okay, she sees Kurt.

“You’re not supposed to be in here.” She says, glaring at him.

“I’m…not really sure what the protocol is for this. But I just felt like I should see how you were doing.” He says, unsure of himself.

She looks up at him, the expression on his face, just as uncomfortable as she feels. She’s staring at him, the clothes he’s wearing, and the accessories he’s picked out, when she sees it, the ring on his finger. She knows that they’re meant for people who don’t agree with their match, it’s low key enough for the authorities not to understand. She only knows about them because she’d been looking one for herself. Usually people who have found someone  _other_ than their match, people who are happy, wear them.

“You’re seeing someone. The ring.” She says.

He quickly covers it with his other hand and seems to try to come up with an explanation, but nothing comes out. Words seem to have failed him. 

She looks at him, and for the first time, smiles. “Your pants are tighter than anything I’ve ever owned, and you’re wearing a NYADA bowtie.” She says

“Yes, and?” he responds, a little wary.

“Are you…gay?” she says, with a whisper.

He looks shocked for a second and then grins, “Depends, are you? I saw you eyeing that cashier as you walked in.”

She stares at him for a second before bursting out into laughter. Man, had the fates fucked up this one.

He sits down next to her, holds her hand.

“I wonder what my boyfriend’s going to say. He never got a match. Well, except with me, I guess.” He rambles.

“At least you  _have_ a boyfriend. I’m too nervous to even  _talk_ to my girl.”

“Sounds like you need a wingman.” He says, with a small smile.

“My gay soulmate as my wingman, so I can get with my female co-worker. Never thought _this_ would be my life.”

“But it’s better than the alternative, right?”

She thinks about what the alternative would be. Some guy, expecting her to be someone she could never be. Expecting her to marry him. Maybe one day she’d have the courage to say she liked girls. But she knows how that would go over, how he’d want to be a part of it, he’d ruin it.

They’re still holding hands, and she drops her head down to his shoulder.

They don’t say anything, they just sit there, in the back of a small diner, holding each other a little closer.

They don’t know each other, yet. They don’t even know how to navigate a situation like this. But they know, they know that they at least have each other.

And for once, when they look at the name on their wrists, they don’t feel that dread, that fear.

It might take a while, but things will be okay.


End file.
